The Gamemaker's Plan: Part 2: The Victor's Assault
by Paradigm of Writing
Summary: Jonathan Crimson has won it all, and he is living in tranquil peace in his home in District 12, for the most part. President Lee is not happy about the outcome of the last Hunger Games and now prepares to change Panem forever. The blow is so striking, Jonathan now has to require on his brother, Lucas and old enemies to save him.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello there everyone, Paradigm here! I have changed my account name from TalesofAdventLover to Paradigm of Writing, just because I thought of something cooler. Hopefully people know I'm the same! This is The Gamemaker's Plan: P2, The Victor's Assault. Well, the title totally gives it away, right? Victors, Hunger Games... well, I totally do it different than Catching Fire. This story, I sadly have no idea how long will take due to other projects in other fandoms *cough Cross Examined cough* This story will be longer than the first TGP and actually have two sequels, which I am very excited for! I hope you all enjoy this! And for your own personal help, to get rid of spoilers, please read The Gamemaker's Plan, P1, Winning Mistakes to understand what happened. But, yet again, the title gives it away, again... Anyway, enough chitchat, let's get this show on the road! I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING except all my OC's and there are some major plot twists. **

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_I love you Jonathan. Don't let them make you another part of their plan._

I bolted awake. The heart pace slowed down, back to the normal, relaxing beat I was used to. I mopped my forehead, wiping sweat away. She was back, back into my dreams. And there was nothing I could do to stop the barrage of images and the replaying of her death, over and over again in my head.

Katie.

She was intoxicating, she was a shine of light in the gloom world of Panem. My old district partner, who made 11th place in that accursed Hunger Games. The last tear which I had cried so long ago was dry, never to reappear on my face. I needed to move on. I had a friend nearby who I was deathly interested in. Katie.

Ugh, there I go again, repeating her name over and over again in my head. The broken soul I was. Damn those Hunger Games, the one thing that is truly demonic in this world. I shivered, realizing my window to room was left open, snow starting to sprinkle in the window. December had started here in Panem, and District 12 received the blunt of it, Mother Nature's harsh heart caused all of Panem to suffer. It had been four months since I escaped the Hunger Games, my soul broken, my mind destroyed from all of my allies deaths. Trust me when I say this, that you would NEVER want to go through what I went through. It would break you, teach you what survival really was, what children would do to save their skin.

I had been one of the outcomes of the Hunger Games, the 99th to be exact. My year was... interesting to say the least. There was enemy who created an alliance that was like the Mongol army, blood thirsty and ruthless. Careers who had no idea of what they were doing. (Quite funny to be honest!) And, in the middle, there was my petty alliance of nearly eight tributes. Well, broken body would be better. I was only in an alliance with one person besides Katie and his death wasn't much better than Katie's.

Colby.

He still puzzles me to this day. I don't understand how someone so smart, like he was, could of been downed by a dumbass tribute from nine with an IQ of a seven year old. He had gripped my hand till I lost the feeling in my fingers, his cries were so real, I knew he was in mortal pain. I missed him. I even had to dare say, I loved him. More than a brother, more than a friendship. Colby and Katie were the two people I relied on in the Hunger Games, the two that showed so qualm to any deed they did. And they were both gone, thanks to the asshole named Lee.

Ugh. President Lee Snow, a true colorful bastard. Oh, I meant that with my heart. He might not be as bad as his grandfather, the original President Snow during the whole Katniss situation, but, he had his own true identity. The day he came to show his "support", after I won the games, I could see behind his eyes, the resentment, the anger. He could not wait to slit my throat, make me lick the blood on the floor before he would stomp my entrails in. I knew he loved to kill people more than anything in the world. And I was on the list.

I was a victor. A winner of the Hunger Games. To be honest, I was surprised at how I even won. Essentially I won, due to a Gamemaker cheating. I only killed three people if my memory serves correctly. All three were part of the alliance destined to win, well in Panem's eyes. Wyatt Crane, the head Gamemaker, who oversaw the entire theatrical, had ordered Don Terio (a Gamemaker I'm not fond of) to come in and execute a tribute. That tribute in question was none other than Lone of District Six, the ruthless Cato look-alike.

My interview was less than memorable. I mean, I told off my district partner, saying I didn't like her right in front of every person in Panem, after she herself had confessed her love to me. Maybe it was the chariot ride that caused us to win. It could have been many possibilities.

Every time I look into the mirror, I am scared by what I see. A gory reflection, trying to hide the abuse, the emotional pain that will never go away. A heart that bleeds in desperation, trying to escape a prison that isn't there. The wave of chestnut hair I used to sport is now charcoal black, mixed in with dirt and salt from the time spent in the Hunger Games. My twinkling eyes, the ones that were like the waves of the ocean are now a haunting electric blue, radioactively lit, looking for victims. My personality is gone, no more fire I must have had before. The games had f***** me up, and the effect was riveting.

I still am visited by my old team, Rose Arsenwood, my stylist who was the person who was in charge of my costume for the games. She was a wonderful gift from God, if there was one. Katie's stylist, Rev, would sometimes join us, and sit around the fire with me telling me how he missed Katie, and I always wanted to burst into tears. Oh, then there was the insufferable Henry Kraving. Lord shoot me now. This man, this _victor _was a disease. He cared for me deep inside, but, was a true hearted bitch when he wasn't around a camera. I guess that because he was a mentor, he has to oversee everything I do in real life till he dies. Which hopefully isn't that long. Hopefully.

What did being a victor mean? Well, it meant privacy with your entire family, in a decorative house in the outskirts of the district. It meant, to have luxurious meals everyday, while others starved or kneeled over dying, due to food poisoning. All under the helpful eye of President Lee! Screw him.

No one hated me in my district, I was a symbol that District 12 could survive and hold their own against the Capitol, no matter how cruel and unreasonable they were. Henry and I, however were the only symbols of District 12, so it was a sucky job to have, and to share. Katniss and Peeta were never spoken of, here in District 12. On top of the Quarter Quell (a special year of the Hunger Games, every 25 years), the entire country of Panem was forced to relive the rebellion, the new rebellion with the Mockingjay, and her supposed lover. No more District 13 crap, and the dark days. That was over. This was a new millennia, a new ball park.

And I was thrown right in the middle of it. Time to sound the trumpets. My death was coming, and soon everyone will forget me, Jonathan Crimson, the savior of District 12.

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**And that was chapter one, just a small reflection on Jonathan's part. The beginning and ending haunts me slightly, how the Games have affected my poor OC. Yet again, like last time, the entire cast is OC, and as you can tell, plot twists are up and at em. All of my stories have not been forgotten but, now this story is going to take off. I will have 24 chapters in this story, with an epilogue included. Please REVIEW! And I would like to shout out to, MessengerofDreams, xFlandre Scarletx, Psychic Karate, Starstorm Kennedy, Asummer6, Soul Pieces, Angelic Land, Purple Mercenary, and Old Justice. Thanks again!**

**~Paradigm of Writing- PW**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello everyone, Paradigm here with #2 in The Victor's Assault, Settling In. I've always wondered what the Capitol is doing during the times before the games, and this chapter reflects on such. Enjoy!**

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The slight knock on the door caused Lee Snow to snap awake. He jolted upright and stared at the door, the soft knock coming again. Lee rubbed his eyes, hard. Being the president of Panem would give you some unsettling dreams, and paranoia's. No intruder, just a servant.

"Come in." Lee called, sinking back down into his pillow.

The door opened and lo and behold, Wyatt Crane, the head Gamemaker entered the room. "Sorry to disturb you sir, but we have some pressing matters to discuss this morning, and if you could get dressed; the conference could start soon."

Lee rubbed his neck, sitting up again. "Alright Wyatt, I'll be arriving on my own terms, and times. How pressing?"

Wyatt checked the clipboard he was carrying. When he answered, his emerald eyes were nearly dark. "A level eight sir."

Lee threw off the covers. "Get the entire personnel staff ready, we have matters to discuss." Lee marched out the door.

"Sir." Wyatt called.

Lee turned around. "What?"

Wyatt pointed down at Lee's body. "Get some clothes on first."

Lee looked down, he was only dressed in his underwear. He shrieked. "Excuse me for a moment."

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_What is like to be president?_

That was one of the most asked questions when Lee would receive his fan mail on his birthday.

"_Being the president," _Lee would write, "_Is the worst job on the whole planet._"

"_Being trapped in a concrete wall, everyone looking at you for the most important decisions of your life. Every living moment is almost like a Shakespeare play, where one consideration can save or doom us all. Being the only country left alive does not help, being the only ruler since the fall of the world. I do not even have a heir. Heredity runs in the president seat. No wonder my father won, it was a unanimous decision. He was a terrible president. I can't say I'm better."_ Lee thought, as he finally tied the tie around his neck.

Lee despised the Hunger Games, he hated them with all of his mind. He had good reason to. There was also good reason to enjoy them as well. He remembered one year, the first games Lee had activated as President, was the 80th Hunger Games, the winner; a relentless tribute named Cyran Dole from District 8. Cyran had just turned age 18, straight out of college. He was a master in Physics, Algebra, and Battle. When he was given a sword in the training center, Wyatt had personally summoned him to watch the training, the kid was that good. No tribute even wanted to practice when he was in the room. The only tribute to score a twelve, that year. Lee remembered the Cornucopia to vividly. The crimson rivers that had streaked and stained the shimmering grass, or the moaning and suffering of the nearly dead tributes milled around. Fifteen tributes died.

Cyran killed nine of them.

Cyran won in a matter of three days after that, killing a total of fifteen people. Five of those included his fellow Career members, the first time an outsider was included into the alliance. Lee particularly enjoyed that year when he absorbed the fear, from the Districts in particular. When Cyran had been given a proposal to be anointed to a Gamemaker, there was a near rebellion, the districts turned to riot. Cyran declined, afraid for his life.

_Is your appearance the same exact as we see on television or in person?_

_"No, at least not fully." _Lee thought.

Lee looked in the mirror, as he thought about the question. He was puzzled at his hair, a silver cape, even though he was only 40. He had to have it dyed blonde on TV, and in public around the citizens of the Capitol. Then there was the two haunting, chill blue eyes that poked out from his pallid face, his own eyes mesmerized and gave him nightmares at the same time. Up his arms, were scars, and burn marks from the time he had to escape the mansion, during an assassination attempt on his father. Lee brushed over his neck, sliding the suit collar above the bone, trying to hide the bullet wound, the time he was sent to be executed, and was shot with the silver pistol that killed his sister moments earlier.

_Is there a year in the Hunger Games you wish to participate in? _

As Lee knew, he didn't like the Hunger Games all that much. Last year, however, the 99th, he hated more than any other games during his rule. Jonathan Crimson was one name that ruined it for him, or Lone's alliance. Maybe Wyatt's attitude... or Don's blunder. It could of been anyone's fault, anything could have irked him.

Namely, Jonathan Crimson.

It burned Lee, to think that a tribute could make an alliance with rebellious districts, and not even know about it. Popularity ratings soared with the games, especially with Lone killing everything in his path, ravaging the ground. Thatcher deserved to win, for he had prized kills. Lee grinned to himself. He killed Katie and Colby, Jonathan's most prized allies, the ones who propped him up. Now they were dead, cold and bloodless. Both deaths in front of Jonathan's eyes.

Is it wrong to say that Lee enjoyed watching Jonathan sit and cry over Colby's dead body, and lose his sanity? He was enjoying the games, till Jon killed Thatcher the next day, it ruined everything. Ruined everything that was meant to be.

Then Don cheated, basically. He was given orders to kill Lone, but decided to go out of his way and try to kill Colby and Jon. That sure ended well. Lee thought, out of all the people left in the arena, Lone or Jonathan, Jonathan deserved to die, hands down, thumbs down like a Roman coliseum.

Lee fitted the last part of his outfit and smiled. "Let's knock em down tiger."

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Lee entered the conference room, his staff bustling about, shouting obscene orders at each other. Coffee was spilled on the floor, papers everywhere. And there was Wyatt, poor Wyatt; trying to calm down the concourse. Lee moved himself between the crowd, managed his way to the stage and thumped his foot as loud as he could against the stage. The staff went silent and stood at attention.

"At ease." Lee whispered into the microphone. The staff relaxed.

Wyatt took the microphone and began pacing. "I had to bring to our President's attention a serious matter. We have to hold a serious conference to discuss certain situations at hand, and the most important issue is at level eight," He beckoned towards Lee. "Sir, if you'll kindly sit for us."

Lee went down the steps and sat at the head of the table, watching his staff eagerly sit. He turned his attention back towards Wyatt. "You may speak now Mr. Crane. I will like to see your analytical mind at work. What is our first topic?"

Wyatt checked his clipboard, and flipped through random pages. "Uh, topic one is our debt, at a level six."

Lee frowned. "Debt? We are the only country in the world. What debt could we owe to anyone?"

A staff behind him tapped his shoulder and leaned in to whisper in his ear. "The districts, president sir."

Wyatt cleared his throat. "Currently we owe $50,000 to District 2, when we supplied them with Peacekeeper Uniforms, and concrete. They paid us, and supplied us with weapons. Then, we also owe $100,000 to District 3, for they have rebuilt nearly all of the southern part of the west wing in your mansion. You still haven't sent your thanks to Brent and Miley, the heads of the district."

Lee laughed. "Why should I?"

Wyatt laughed weakly, then blanched, slightly. "And then we owe our last bound of money to District 12, the most money by the way with nearly $455,000 in payments."

Lee, who had taken a sip of water, spit take all over his assistant. "Why do we owe this much money to District 12?" Lee demanded.

Wyatt flipped through the clipboard. "Because District 12 is paying for the party we will have when Jonathan and his team arrive for the Capitol party."

Lee grumbled to himself. "I do not like District 12, they always make us pay the most for the parties."

Wyatt, who did not even notice Lee's altercation continued. "We only have one more thing to discuss," Lee leaned in as Wyatt spoke. "Our level eight matter, is Jonathan Crimson, and his tour."

Lee sank back into his chair, deep in thought. It was a moment before he spoke. "Why is this such a problem?"

Wyatt flipped through the clipboard. "District 1, District 2, District 6, District 8, District 9, and District 10 are threatening to kill Jonathan, the first second he sets his foot on their soil. Then, District 3, District 5, District 7, and District 11 threatened that they would attack the nearby districts if Jonathan is killed. District 4 has remained neutral sir."

Lee rubbed his chin. "We can't exactly postpone or cancel a Victory Tour. It's never happened before. I can't allow the districts to slaughter him either, or allow any of them to fight. Care to give me a reason as to why these districts are saying such things?"

Wyatt seemed to be blank, so his assistant spoke instead. "Because the six districts that are wanting to kill him, hate him since he won. The districts threatening to attack were his allies. Simple as that."

Lee stood. "I've made my decision. Jonathan will go on his tour, and I will be on a helicopter floating above. At the first moment of disturbance, I will interfere."

Wyatt was speechless. "Sir.."

Lee held up a hand. "It will be a firework display. Jonathan has to survive the chaos of District 6, and you know just as well as I do, they're going to kill him without authority interference. I don't want him dead, I especially don't want the districts killing him."

"Why ever not sir?"

Lee, before he left the room gave Wyatt a hard look. "Because, I want to kill him first."

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**That was chapter two for all of you guys! Please review, thanks so much! **

**~Paradigm**


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